


Campfire Stories

by FlightOfInsanity



Series: Halo Shorts [6]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Forerunners, Gen, Shenanigans, forerunners need more happy stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlightOfInsanity/pseuds/FlightOfInsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chakas and Riser decide to have a little fun at the expense of their new Forerunner companion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Campfire Stories

The sun set over the rim of the crater in a blaze of pink and orange, casting us in shadow as the sky overhead slowly dimmed. Chakas and Riser built a small fire and we sat around it, munching on the few fruits we had left from the day’s hike as we watched the stars wink into existence. Chakas sniffed slightly and cast a side-eyed glance at Riser across the fire; the little Florian stared back at his larger companion with a pinched expression. Their extended silence made me uneasy as Chakas’ lips lifted at the corners into a smile I couldn’t interpret.

“You know…” he began, arching a look at me. “There are other stories from this island.”

“Really?” I asked.

Chakas nodded sagely as Riser huffed and stood up, dusting stray grains of sand from his legs. He wandered away into the trees with a slight wave – off to find more kindling or fruits, perhaps. I paid little attention to the Florian, infinitely more interested in these new stories. Could it be more hints about the Organon? I leaned forward slightly, which Chakas took as an invitation to continue.

“There are stories of old, vengeful spirits that live here.”

Ah. Not the Organon, then. But possibly facts distorted through years of retelling?

“Old spirits?” I repeated, skeptical.

Chakas gave me a flat stare. “Do you want to hear the tale or not?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I was less interested in old human ghost stories, but unwilling to upset my guide. I still wasn’t entirely sure they wouldn’t abandon me out here. He stared at me a moment longer before nodding minutely and looking back out into the dark.

“Long ago, before Marontik, the land here was lush with all manner of grasses and little trees and animals. But when the people came to build the city they cut down the trees for timber and fire and hunted all the animals. All the little spirits of those trees and animals were angry at being killed and burned and gathered together into larger spirits.”

He swung a hand out, toward the trees and the large mountain peak. “They live out here now, behind the merse, guarding the island trees.”

“Why wouldn’t they just haunt the city?”

“The fire and the people keep them away,” he answered. “They won’t bother the large crowds, only small groups out in the dark.”

Like us, I thought. Of course.

“Have you ever seen one?”

Chakas shook his head. “Not me, but others have. They look like humans, but they’re like shadows. Skinny and tall – as tall as three or four of me! – and all dark black and grey, with spidery limbs and hands. They don’t have faces, but they have big red eyes that glow with their sadness and anger.”

This was sounding more and more like nothing more than an old human ghost story, but I couldn’t help the small feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it.

“And they just… stand there? On the shore?”

“They _wait_ ,” Chakas corrected. “For people to leave the safety of the light so they can steal their souls.”

My face scrunched and I leaned back, “They what?”

“They take our souls as revenge for us taking theirs.”

Chakas explained this to me with the same tone one might use with a small child. I found it incredibly condescending.

“That’s ridiculous.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Believe what you want. They’d probably be just as happy with a Forerunner soul.”

He trailed off in a way that implied he thought Forerunners might be entirely soulless and flopped onto his back in the sand. I was about to argue the unspoken insult, but had a sudden thought. I looked around our little camp before asking, “Where’s Riser?”

Chakas shrugged in the sand, “He comes and goes. I’m sure he’ll be–”

He sat up with a sudden jerk, sand falling all off his back and arms. “Did you hear that?”

I sat up a little straighter. “Hear what?”

“Shh!” He waved a hand at me to shush and whispered, “Listen!”

I strained to hear anything odd, but only heard the gentle rustle of the palm leaves in the breeze. I leaned toward my guide and waved a hand in question as I whispered back, “I don’t hear–”

“ _Shh!_ ” he cut me off again. He pointed off into the trees in front of us, “Over there.”

I glowered at him for shushing me again, but leaned forward a little more and tried to hear whatever it was he was hearing. Still just the trees but maybe… there! My eyes widened in surprise – were those distant footsteps? But what could be making them? I turned to ask my guide what he thought it could be when I felt something cold grab my shoulder. I sucked in a sharp breath, logic abandoning me and leaving only the image of a spidery shadow-hand grabbing my shoulder before…

I leapt up with an involuntary shout and tried to both run away from and turn around to see whatever had me and succeeded in only tripping over my own feet and falling back down onto the sand. I landed on my rear and scrambled backwards a bit, looking up and seeing…

Riser. Standing not far from where I’d been sitting, a long spindly stick in his hands. His face twitched, switching quickly from smile to frown to something strained in between. I looked him up and down, trying to get my breathing back under control and not quite understanding, and heard a loud snort from Chakas’ direction. I whipped my head around and stared at him as he doubled over and howled with laughter.

“Your _face!_ ” he wheezed.

I looked from him to Riser, who had devolved into his own laughing fits, and back. My mouth opened and closed a few times as I tried to find something to say.

“ _YOU!_ ” I shouted as I threw a handful of sand across the fire. Most of it fell in a dusty curtain into the fire but some of it made it over onto Chakas’ head and shoulders; he ignored it as he continued to giggle at my expense.

I crossed my arms in a huff and glowered at my guides, but found it difficult to stay as angry with them as I wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> The story that Chakas uses is actually adapted from a story my granddad always told us when we were little and would all go on big family camping trips. I don't remember exactly how it went, but I do remember the big, lanky shadow figures with red eyes that hid in the woods and came out at night.


End file.
